OPEN  BOATS 


BY 

ALFRED  NOYES 

Author  of  "The  Lord  of  Misrule," 
"Sherwood"  "Drake"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1916,  by 
ALFRED  NOYES 


Copyright,  ipi?>  by 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 


All  Rights  Reserved 


PROLOGUE 

WIRELESS 

Now  to  those  who  search  the  deep — 
Gleam  of  Hope  and  Kindly  Light, 

Once,  before  you  turn  to  sleep, 

Breathe  a  message  through  the  night 

Never  doubt  that  they'll  receive  it. 
Send  it,  once,  and  you'll  believe  it. 

Think  you  these  aerial  wires 
Whisper  more  than  spirits  may? 

Think  you  that  our  strong  desires 
Touch  no  distance  when  we  pray? 

Think  you  that  no  wings  are  flying 
'Twixt  the  living  and  the  dying? 

Inland,  here,  upon  your  knees, 
You  shall  breathe  from  urgent  lips 

Round  the  ships  that  guard  your  seas 
Fleet  on  fleet  of  angel  ships; 
iii 


382111 


iv  PROLOGUE 

Yea,  the  guarded  may  so  bless  them 
That  no  terrors  can  distress  them. 

You  shall  guide  the  darkling  prow, 
Kneeling — thus — and  far  inland; 

You  shall  touch  the  storm-beat  brow, 
Gently  as  a  spirit-hand. 

Even  a  blindfold  prayer  may  speed  them, 
And  a  little  child  may  lead  them. 


OPEN  BOATS 

CHAPTER  I 
OPEN    BOATS 

THE  ebb  and  flow  of  this  war 
necessarily  pass  beyond  the  range 
of  any  man's  vision.  From  inci- 
dents that  we  are  able  to  visualize 
completely  —  the  solitary  spar 
tossed  up  by  the  wave — we  obtain 
clues  to  the  moving  epic  beyond 
our  ken.  One  mutilated  face  tells 
us  more  than  all  the  swarming 
casualty  columns;  and  a  little 
wreckage  touches  the  whole  At- 
lantic with  tragedy. 

For  intense  drama,  doubly  sig- 
nificant because  its  horror  is  un- 
seen, drowned  in  the  deep  reticence 


i!  OPEN  BOATS 

of  the  sea,  it  would  be  difficult  to 
match  the  following  passage  from 
the  log-book  of  a  British  merchant 
ship : — 

"At  this  time  and  position  we 
passed  through  a  quantity  of  wreck- 
age, apparently  from  a  small  vessel, 
and  consisting  of  smalllining  boards, 
painted  white,  a  small  companion 
hatch-cover,  a  small  ladder,  several 
seamen's  chests,  and  a  small  empty 
boat.  There  were  many  tins  amongst 
the  wreckage,  apparently  petrol  tins, 
floating  deep,  some  painted  red  and 
some  green.  They  had  not  been  long 
in  the  water." 

Then,  in  a  single  grim  sentence, 
giving  the  key  as  if  with  deliberate 
art,  the  log-book  closes: — 

"At  11:30  a.m.  the  master  ob- 
served the  top  of  a  periscope." 

Many  hundreds  of  times  during 


OPEN  BOATS  3 

the  last  two  years  those  tragic  little 
patches  have  marked  the  face  of 
the  waters;  and  the  sun  shines  as 
indifferently  over  them  as  over 
the  tiny  gray  tufts  of  feathers  on 
Dartmoor,  where  the  hawk  has 
pounced  upon  his  prey.  My 
present  concern  is  chiefly  with  the 
small  "open  boats"  to  which  the 
"U"  boats,  on  some  occasions, 
consign  passengers  and  crews  (men, 
women  and  children)  after  sinking 
their  ships  at  sea.  Certainly  no 
tale  in  the  long  annals  of  our  sea- 
adventure  is  fraught  with  more 
pity  and  terror. 

The  provision  made  by  inter- 
national law  for  the  safety  of  pas- 
sengers and  crews  of  merchant 
ships,  belligerent  or  neutral,  has 
proved  to  be  as  ready  an  instru- 
ment of  frightfulness  as  the  pro- 


4  OPEN  BOATS 

vision  devised  to  protect  sleeping 
children,  in  open  cities,  from  mid- 
night murder.  Circumstances  are 
always  found  to  justify  whatever 
the  law-breaker  may  desire  to  do. 
If  he  desires  to  put  men,  women, 
and  children  into  open  boats,  a 
hundred  miles  from  land,  in  a 
comparatively  calm  sea,  it  is  ob- 
viously not  his  fault  that — six 
hours  later — a  storm  should  rise 
and  trample  them  under.  He  has 
left  them  at  all  distances  from 
land,  some  only  a  few  miles  and 
others  many  score,  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean and  in  the  Atlantic.  He 
attacked  the  Umeta  without  warn- 
ing; and  one  of  her  crowded  open 
boats  was  left  adrift  in  the  depth 
of  winter,  from  December  I  to  5. 
One  man  died  of  thirst  and  ex- 
posure. How  many  people  realize 


OPEN  BOATS  5 

the  full   meaning  of  that  simple 
fact? 

The  tale  of  the  Cottingham  is  a 
typical  one.  She  was  owned  in 
Glasgow,  rigged  as  a  fore  and  aft 
schooner,  built  of  steel  at  Goole, 
and  bound  from  Rouen  to  Swansea. 
On  Sunday,  December  26,  at  4 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  with  a 
south-west  wind  blowing  and  a 
choppy  sea,  she  was  about  16  miles 
south-west  of  Lundy  Island  South 
Light,  and  sailing  at  about  eight 
and  a  half  knots.  Without  any 
warning,  a  shell  passed  directly 
over  the  vessel,  and  the  report  of 
a  gun  was  heard.  Looking  astern, 
the  master  saw  the  periscope  and 
conning-tower  of  a  submarine,  dead 
in  the  wake  of  the  ship,  about  a 
mile  distant.  The  Cottingham 
kept  on  her  course.  A  second 


6  OPEN  BOATS 

shell  went  over  her,  and  the  sub- 
marine began  to  overhaul  the  ship 
very  rapidly,  coming  up  on  the 
starboard  quarter.  A  signal  was 
now  seen  flying  on  the  submarine, 
"Abandon  ship,"  and  a  third  shell 
struck  the  Cottingham  on  the  star- 
board bow. 

The  engines  were  stopped,  and 
all  hands  were  called  to  the  boats, 
which  were  promptly  lowered. 
There  were  six  men  in  the  master's 
boat,  and  seven  men  in  that  of  the 
chief  officer.  This  was  about  4:30 
p.m.  The  boats  pulled  away  clear, 
while  the  shelling  continued. 
There  were  10  or  12  shells  fired. 
Darkness  was  coming  on,  and  the 
ship  was  not  seen  to  sink. 

The  master's  boat  went  away 
before  the  wind  and  sea,  steering 
north-east.  Signals  by  red  lights 


OPEN  BOATS  7 

were  made  to  the  other  boat,  which 
replied  to  two  signals,  but  did  not 
answer  the  third.  The  boats  lost 
touch  with  each  other  about  6 
o'clock.  The  master  assumed, 
however,  that  the  other  boat  was 
following  the  same  course,  and 
steered  for  Lundy  Island.  Lights 
were  seen  a  few  hours  later,  and 
signals  were  again  made  by  red 
flares.  The  patrol-boat  Soar 
loomed  up  out  of  the  dark,  and 
the  crew  of  the  master's  boat  were 
taken  aboard  at  10.30  p.m. 

The  Soar  then  cruised  round, 
searching  the  pitchy  seas  far  and 
wide,  but  nothing  was  seen  of  the 
other  boat,  with  the  seven  missing 
men. 

The  end  of  this  brief  summary 
of  a  thousand  cases  is  told  best, 
perhaps,  in  a  telegram  from  St. 


8  OPEN  BOATS 

David's,  and  even  the  telegram 
suggests  a  second  tragedy: — 

Begins: — "Lifeboat  named  Cot- 
tingham,  of  Glasgow,  washed 
ashore  at  Portliskey,  bottom  up, 
broke  to  pieces  on  rocks,  also  life- 
buoy marked  S.S.  Ministre 
Anvers" — ends. 

The  case  of  the  Diomed  would 
be  pretty  good  evidence  for  the 
prosecution  in  that  remote  court 
of  international  law  at  which  most 
of  us  agree  to  scoff,  and  thereby 
lend  immeasurable  support  to  the 
tenets  of  Germany.  The  Diomed 
was  a  schooner  of  some  3,000  tons, 
built  of  steel  at  Greenock,  and 
bound  from  Liverpool  to  Shanghai 
with  a  general  cargo.  On  August 
22,  the  weather  being  fine  and 
clear,  with  a  slight  sea,  she  was 
sailing  at  full  speed  about  30  miles 


OPEN  BOATS  9 

west  of  the  Scilly  Islands.  At 
9.45  a.m.  a  submarine  was  sighted 
about  six  miles  distant  on  the  port 
beam.  The  helm  was  ported  at 
once,  to  bring  the  submarine 
astern. 

At  about  11.45  a.m.  the  sub- 
marine opened  fire.  She  was  then 
three  miles  away.  The  shots  fell 
short  till  1.45,  when  they  began 
to  fall  ahead  of  the  ship,  and 
at  last  to  strike  her.  They 
struck  her  very  systematically. 
First,  they  smashed  up  the  stern, 
then  the  forepart  of  the  ship,  and 
then — lest  any  "place  of  safety" 
should  remain  —  they  began  to 
break  up  the  bridge.  The  sub- 
marine flew  no  signals.  The  third 
steward  was  dropped,  in  a  red 
lump,  on  the  forepart  of  the  ship. 
The  master  and  quarter-master 


10  OPEN  BOATS 

were  killed  outright  on  the  bridge, 
and  the  chief  officer  seriously 
wounded.  The  bridge  now  looked 
like  a  cross-section  of  a  slaughter 
house,  greased  with  blood. 

The  second  mate  then  ordered 
the  ship  to  be  stopped  and  aban- 
doned; for  she  was  obviously  sink- 
ing. She  carried  four  boats,  of 
which  the  two  on  the  portside  had 
been  smashed  by  shell-fire,  a  mat- 
ter into  which  submarines  do  not 
inquire  too  closely  when  they  are 
committing  the  bodies  of  the  living 
to  the  deep. 

A  steady  pounding  of  this  kind, 
however,  with  all  its  hideous  ac- 
companiment of  wounds  and  death 
and  bloody  wreckage,  induces 
haste  in  the  hardiest  of  merchant 
crews.  One  of  the  two  boats  on 
the  starboard  side  was  "holed": 


OPEN  BOATS  II 

but  they  did  not  notice  it  till  after 
she  was  lowered,  when,  promptly 
filling  up  with  good  green  sea 
water  and  20  floundering,  wild- 
eyed  men,  she  capsized. 

The  crew  swam  round  her,  or 
clung  to  her  sides,  while  the  other 
starboard  boat  fought  with  its  own 
difficulties.  Just  after  it  had 
reached  the  water  there  was  a 
violent  explosion  in  the  engine- 
room  of  the  Diomed,  which  threw 
up  a  great  wave  and  half  filled  this 
boat  also.  The  crew  baled  her  as 
hastily  as  possible,  in  order  to 
come  to  the  rescue  of  the  men  in 
the  sea.  The  maddening  night- 
mare-like confusion  of  these 
moments  can  only  be  imagined. 

At  last  they  were  able  to  pick 
up  the  men  who  were  swimming. 
Those  who  were  clinging  to  the 


12  OPEN  BOATS 

damaged  boat  were  left,  as  they 
were  "safe"  for  the  time  being. 
There  were  about  34  men  in  the 
undamaged  boat. 

AH  this  time,  it  must  be  re- 
membered, the  Diomed  was  sink- 
ing. The  men  had  hardly  been 
taken  from  the  water  when  she 
went  down  with  a  rush.  The  waves 
closed  over  her,  and  these  wrecked 
men  were  left  alone  with  their 
enemies  on  the  naked  sea. 

The  submarine  rendered  them 
no  help  of  any  kind.  The  com- 
mander looked  at  the  men  in  the 
water  and  shook  his  fist  at  them, 
saying  something  in  German. 
Then  he  closed  the  hatch,  and  the 
submarine  submerged,  leaving 
them  to  their  own  devices. 

The  second  mate  headed  the 
undamaged  boat  for  the  Irish 


OPEN  BOATS  13 

coast;  and  at  about  6  o'clock  in 
the  evening  he  hailed  a  destroyer, 
which  foamed  through  the  dusk  to 
the  scene  of  the  wreck.  There, 
long  after  dark,  they  picked  up 
the  survivors  on  the  capsized  boat. 
But  seven  men  had  dropped  off  in 
sheer  exhaustion  and  had  been 
drowned;  and  five  of  these  were 
neutrals. 

Few  of  us  at  home  realize  the 
intensity  of  this  ocean-drama  in 
which  our  merchant  seamen,  night 
and  day,  are  risking  their  lives  to 
keep  our  sea-roads  open.  A  few 
lines  of  cold  print  can  tell  us  very 
little  by  way  of  epitaph;  and  their 
hair-breadth  escapes  are — in  the 
nature  of  things — hardly  noted  at 
all.  Only  by  exploring  incidental 
matters,  that  are  not  included  in 
the  published  reports,  does  one 


14  OPEN  BOATS 

begin  to  realize  that  there  are 
sea-romances  in  the  world  around 
us  surpassing  anything  that  Hak- 
luyt  or  Richard  Eden  ever  knew. 
The  tale  of  the  unarmed  Anglo- 
Californian,  for  instance,  was 
illuminated  for  me  by  the  explo- 
ration of  a  record  of  her  wireless 
messages.  These,  in  themselves, 
tell  a  tale  which,  in  the  days  be* 
fore  the  war,  we  should  have  dis- 
missed as  beyond  the  wildest 
dreams  of  melodrama. 

The  Anglo-Californian  was 
homeward  bound  from  Montreal 
to  Avonmouth,  with  a  cargo  of 
927  horses.  She  was  chased  and 
shelled  by  a  submarine.  She  sent 
out  wireless  calls,  and  was 
answered  by  a  man-of-war,  beyond 
the  horizon. 

The  firing  grew  so  hot  that,  when 


OPEN  BOATS  15 

the  submarine  signaled  "abandon 
ship,"  the  captain  decided  to  obey. 
He  stopped  the  engines,  and  two 
boats  were  lowered.  One  was  fired 
on,  and  both  capsized. 

A  wireless  message  was  then 
received  telling  the  captain  to  hold 
on  as  long  as  possible,  and  he 
decided  to  go  on  again.  He  had 
some  difficulty  in  persuading  the 
firemen  to  go  down  below;  but  he 
was  probably  helped  by  the  way 
in  which  the  submarine  had  treated 
their  "places  of  safety."  As  soon 
as  the  ship  went  on  the  submarine 
opened  fire  on  the  bridge  and  boats. 
The  captain  and  eight  hands  were 
killed;  seven  hands  were  badly 
wounded,  and  20  horses  were  killed. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  paint  that 
picture — the  smoke,  the  confusion, 
the  changes  of  command,  the  con- 


1 6  OPEN  BOATS 

cussions,  the  neighings  of  the 
horses,  the  pounding  of  the 
engines.  But,  with  all  that  as  a 
background,  and  the  single  state- 
ment that  the  wireless  operator 
was  in  an  exposed  position  just 
abaft  the  bridge  and  remained  at 
his  post  throughout,  let  the  reader 
study  for  himself  the  amazing 
melodrama  of  this  wireless  con- 
versation between  the  Anglo-Cali- 
fornian  and  the  invisible  men-of- 
war  rushing  up  beyond  the  sky- 
line. 

"S.O.S.,  S.O.S.,  being  chased  by 
submarine.  S.O.S.  Position  Lati- 
tude so-and-so  N.  Longitude  so- 
and-so  W.,  steering  so-and-so." 

"Go  ahead.  He  is  being  led  a 
dance,  and  it  is  O.K.  to  work  for  a 
few  minutes.  Now  altering  course 
to  south." 


OPEN  BOATS  17 

"Are  you  the  Cryptic?  He  is 
rapidly  overtaking  us." 

"  Yes.  Steer  so-and-so  and  keep 
me  informed." 

"That  is  impossible.  We  are 
being  fired  on." 

"Where  is  submarine?" 

"Now  astern." 

"Endeavor  to  carry  out  instruc- 
tions. Important " — 

"Can't.  He  is  now  on  top  of 
us,  and  I  can  hear  his  shots  hitting 


us." 


"On  your  port?" 

"Submarine  on  top  of  us  and 
hitting  us.  Captain  says  steering 
so-and-so.  If  he  alters  course  will 
endanger  ship." 

"Did  you  get  message  from 
Cryptic?"  This  was  an  invisible 
destroyer  speaking  from  a  new  point 
of  the  compass,  40  miles  away. 


1 8  OPEN  BOATS 

"  Don't  know  who  he  is.  Believe 
it  is  Sphinx." 

"No.  Cryptic  said  something 
about  approaching  you." 

"  I  can't  hear  him." 

"Steer  as  much  east  as  possible." 
This  was  Cryptic  resuming  her 
long-distance  instructions  and 
cross-examination  with  the  calm 
of  a  doctor  addressing  a  nervous 
patient. 

"If  we  steer  east,  we  shall  have 
submarine  abeam.  We  can't  do  it." 

"Please  give  Cryptic  your 
speed." 

"Twelve  knots." 

"Can  see  your  smoke.  Hold 
on.  Funnel  red  and  blue  bands 
with  yellow  star.  We  are  making 
your  smoke." 

"According  to  your  position  I 
am  nine  miles  off  you." 


OPEN  BOATS  19 

"We  are  the  Anglo-Californian." 

"Have  you  many  passengers?" 

"No.  But  we  are  150  men  on 
board.  Crew/' 

"Please  fire  rocket  to  verify  posi- 
tion. What  is  position  of  sub- 
marine?" 

"Right  astern,  firing  at  wire- 
less." 

"Let  me  have  your  position 
frequently." 

"Now  firing  our  rockets."  Sub- 
marine signals.  "Abandon  vessel 
as  soon  as  possible." 

"As  a  last  resource,  can  you 
ram?  She  will  then  give  in.  Can 
you  see  my  smoke  north-east  of 

you?" 

"No.  No.  She  is  too  close. 
We  are  stopped,  and  blowing  off." 

It  was  at  this  point  that  the 
captain  apparently  wavered  be- 


20  OPEN  BOATS 

tween  abandoning  his  ship  and 
going  on.  The  reader  will  note 
the  subtle  distinctions  in  the  fol- 
lowing dialogue: — The  Anglo-Cal- 
ifornian,  as  an  unarmed  ship,  being 
chiefly  anxious  to  escape,  while 
the  man-of-war  is  anxious  also  to 
bag  the  submarine,  if  possible. 
The  sea  was  still  naked  of  help, 
though  beyond  the  horizon  the 
great  ships  were  foaming  up  at  full 
speed.  It  was  the  encouragement 
of  the  wireless  rather  than  a  faint 
wisp  of  smoke  on  the  sky-line  that 
persuaded  the  captain  to  continue 
the  struggle. 

"Can  see  you  distinctly,"  called 
the  Cryptic.  "Am  about  south- 
west from  you.  Hold  on." 

"Yes.  Yes.  He  is  running 
away." 

"In  what  direction?" 


OPEN  BOATS  21 

"He  is  on  the  port  side,  we  are 
between  you  and  him.  Hurry, 
hurry,  hurry,'  he  is  getting  abeam 
to  torpedo  us." 

"I  am  coming." 

"We    are    keeping    him    astern 


now." 


"O.K.  Endeavor  to  keep  his 
attention.  You  will  be  quite  safe 

when " 

"  Your  signals  are  weak." 
"How  are  you  steering?" 
"I  can't  find  out  how  we  are 
steering.     It  is  zig-zag." 

"Tell  captain  to  steer  straight." 
(The  zig-zag  course  was  wrong,  as 
the  submarine  was  astern.)  "How 
many  masts  have  you?" 

"  For  God's  sake  hurry  up.  Fir- 
ing like  blazes." 

"How  many  masts?" 

"  Can't  read  you.     Concussion." 


22  OPEN  BOATS 

"How  many  masts  have  you?" 

"Two — two — one  funnel.  I  see 
you  on  our  port  beam." 

"O.K.  Keep  quiet  as  though 
we  were  only  coming  to  your 
assistance,  and  nothing  else." 

"Keeping  him  astern.  Hurry 
up." 

"We  are  firing.  Can  you  inform 
result?" 

"Can  hear  you.  Several  being 
wounded.  Shrapnel,  I  believe." 

"Keep  men  below,  or  those  on 
deck  lie  face  down." 

"AH  taking  shelter  in  front  of 
bridge-houses.  He  is  firing  shell." 

"Have  you  two  or  four  masts  in 
all?" 

"Two  masts  and  one  funnel." 

"What  speed?" 

"Twelve,  twelve,  and  submarine 
keeping  pace.  He  is  still  very 


OPEN  BOATS  23 

close  within  200  yards.  Captain 
wants  to  know  if  you  will  fire  to 
scare  him." 

"Firing  to  scare  him.  Please 
head  towards  me." 

"We  can't.  You  are  astern  and 
so  is  submarine." 

"Head  for  us  in  round  about 
south.  If  submarine  is  only  200 
yards  astern  put  ropes  astern  and 
tow  in  order  to  foul  his  propellers. 
Can  you  see  my  smoke?" 

And  again  another  ship  anxious- 
ly repeats  the  question: — "Cryptic 
wants  to  know  if  you  can  see  his 
smoke." 

"Yes,  yes,  a  long  way  off.  Can 
see  your  smoke  astern." 

"What  bearing?  What  has 
happened  to  you?" 

"They  can't  tell  what  bearing. 
Now  sinking." 


24  OPEN  BOATS 

"Are  you  torpedoed? " 
"Not  yet,  but  shots  in  plenty 
hitting.     Broken  glass   all   round 


me/5 


"Stick  it,  old  man." 

"Yes,  you  bet.  Say,  the  place 
stinks  of  gunpowder.  Am  lying 
on  the  floor." 

"  Nothing  better,  old  man.  Keep 
your  pecker  up,  old  man." 

"Sure  thing.  Is  there  anything 
else  coming  to  us,  please?" 

"Yes,  I  am  Cryptic.  Coming 
full  speed,  33  knots." 

"I  have  had  to  leave  phones. 
Yes,  I  say  I  smell  gunpowder  here 
strong,  and  am  lying  on  the  floor. 
My  gear  beginning  to  fly  around 
with  concussion.  Smoke  W.N.W. 
of  me,  there  is  a  man  of  fight  on 
our  starboard  side  and  the  sub- 
marine is  on  our  port  side.  Sub- 


OPEN  BOATS  25 

marine  has  dived.  Submarine  has 
dived." 

"Report  her  trail  at  intervals." 

"I  hope  she  stops  down  there. 
It  is  getting  hot  here." 

"We  are  coming.  We  are  com- 
ing. Have  you  launched  all 
boats?" 

"Yes.  Two  ships  coming.  One 
abeam,  and  one  on  port  quarter. 
Don't  worry.  He  has  gone.  De- 
stroyers now  alongside." 


CHAPTER  II 
SEA  SAVAGERY 

Two  telegrams  begin  this 
winter's  tale.  The  first,  to  C.  in 
C.  E.  Indies:  "Have  you  any  news 
of  the  S.S.  Clan  Macfarlane,  passed 
Malta  on  Dec.  27,  bound  for  Port 
Said?"  The  second,  from  C.  in 
C.  E.  Indies:  "Clan  Macfarlane 
has  not  yet  arrived  in  Egypt/' 

The  Clan  Macfarlane,  of  the 
Port  of  Glasgow,  was  a  steamer  of 
some  4,000  tons,  built  of  steel,  at 
Sunderland.  She  had  a  crew  of 
seventy-six  hands,  and  a  general 
cargo  and  left  Birkenhead  on  Dec. 
16,  1915.  On  Dec.  30  at  3.45  p.m., 
26 


SEA  SAVAGERY  27 

she  was  steaming  at  full  speed, 
making  an  average  of  ten  knots. 
There  was  a  look-out  in  the  crow's- 
nest  and  two  look-outs  were  on  the 
forecastle  head.  The  weather  was 
fine  and  clear.  The  wind  was  in 
the  west,  blowing  moderately,  with 
a  slight  sea. 

The  chief  officer,  Frederick 
James  Hawley,  had  just  been 
called,  as  he  was  to  go  on  duty 
at  four  o'clock,  when  he  felt  and 
heard  a  violent  explosion.  He  ran 
on  deck  and  found  the  upper 
hatches  of  No.  5  hold  and  the 
tarpaulins  blown  out  of  position. 
They  had  been  battened  down  on 
leaving  Liverpool. 

He  gave  orders  at  once  to  lower 
the  boats  below  the  level  of  the 
harbor  deck,  and  this  was  done. 
He  then  sounded  No.  5  hold  and 


28  OPEN  BOATS 

found  1 8  inches  of  water.  He  also 
saw  the  cargo  breaking  up  and 
floating  out  of  the  steamer's  side. 
She  had  been  struck  on  the  star- 
board side,  at  No.  5  hatch,  below 
the  water-line.  Hawley  then  per- 
sonally searched  the  forecastles  to 
make  sure  that  nobody  was  in 
them.  He  conferred  with  the 
master,  and  they  decided  to  aban- 
don the  ship,  as  she  was  beginning 
to  settle  by  the  stern,  and  it  was 
growing  dark. 

At  about  5.15  all  hands  left  the 
steamer  in  six  boats,  and  rowed 
clear.  About  six  o'clock  a  sub- 
marine appeared  from  the  south- 
ward, and  fired  six  shots  into  the 
steamer  on  the  port  side  forward. 
At  6.15  all  the  boats  were  made 
fast,  astern  of  the  master's  boat, 
to  keep  them  together  during  the 


SEA  SAVAGERY  29 

night.  A  few  minutes  later  the 
submarine  came  alongside,  asked 
for  particulars  of  the  steamer,  and 
then  steered  to  the  eastward. 
After  this  masts  were  stepped,  sails 
broken  out,  and  a  course  set  for 
Crete,  which  was  thought  to  be 
fifty-five  or  sixty  miles  away. 
They  sailed  all  night. 

In  the  early  hours  of  New  Year's 
morning  it  fell  calm.  The  boats 
were  separated,  and  the  men  rowed 
till  10  a.m.,  when  a  light  northerly 
wind  sprang  up.  They  set  sail, 
and  continued  till  5  p.m.,  when 
the  boats  were  all  made  fast  again 
astern  of  the  master's  boat.  They 
sailed  all  night. 

On  Jan.  2,  at  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  they  made  the  north- 
east end  of  Crete,  but  the  wind  and 
sea  increased,  and  the  boats  were 


30  OPEN  BOATS 

blown  to  the  south-west,  along  the 
coast.  It  was  only  three  or  four 
miles  distant,  but  the  heavy  sea 
made  it  impossible  to  land. 

At  ten  o'clock  that  night  the 
third  officer's  boat  parted  the  tow- 
rope.  The  second  gunner's  boat 
was  attached  to  this  one,  and  they 
were  both  swallowed  up  in  the 
darkness.  The  master's  boat  cast 
off,  and  went  in  search  of  them. 
Hawley's  boat  lay  to  with  the 
others  all  night  waiting. 

It  was  a  terrible  night.  There 
were  a  good  many  natives  of  India 
in  the  boats'  crews,  and  they 
suffered  greatly  from  the  exposure. 
One  by  one,  in  the  dim  light  of  the 
lanterns,  pathetically  as  children, 
they  gave  up  the  fight  for  life, 
and  slipped  into  the  water  that 
swilled  about  their  feet.  The  wild 


SEA  SAVAGERY  31 

eyes,  always  aloof  from  our  own, 
widened  and  flashed  like  the  eyes  of 
frightened  forest  creatures.  Five 
of  them  died  in  Hawley's  boat, 
and  were  lifted,  dripping  from  the 
water  that  had  been  shipped,  and 
slipped  over  the  side  into  the  dark 
sea.  A  sixth  died  in  the  second 
officer's  boat. 

At  daybreak  on  Jan.  3  the 
master's  boat  was  sighted,  a  black 
dot  among  the  distant  whitecaps; 
and  at  about  eight  o'clock  he 
rejoined  them.  He  told  them  that 
he  had  been  unable  to  find  the 
missing  boats,  and  that  three 
natives  in  his  own  boat  had  also 
died  during  the  night. 

At  four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon 
of  this  day  they  decided  to  aban- 
don number  one  boat,  transferring 
the  fourth  engineer  (who  was  in 


32  OPEN   BOATS 

charge  of  it)  with  six  natives  to 
Hawley's  boat,  and  two  natives  to 
the  master's  boat.  The  wind  and 
sea  increased,  and  at  4.30  the 
rudder  on  the  master's  boat  was 
carried  away.  He  then  made  fast 
astern  of  the  second  officer's  boat. 
At  5.30  the  wind  and  sea  had 
increased  so  much  that  the  master 
was  forced  to  let  go.  He  set  a 
reefed  jib;  and  at  daylight  on  the 
4th  there  was  no  sign  of  him.  At 
2  p.m.  he  was  sighted  again, 
sailing  to  the  westward.  Hawley 
set  sail  and  tried  to  follow  him,  but 
he  had  the  second  officer's  boat 
attached  and  could  not  get  up  to 
him.  The  last  they  saw  of  the 
master's  boat  was  at  sunset  on  the 
fourth,  making  about  west-south- 
west, and  finally  vanishing  into 
the  evening  light.  Sails  were 


SEA  SAVAGERY  33 

stowed  and  the  boats  lay  to.  The 
sea  anchor  was  used  that  night, 
and  at  daybreak  Hawley  attached 
a  bucket  to  the  sea  anchor  to 
increase  its  weight. 

At  i  a.m.  on  the  5th  it  was 
decided  to  abandon  number  four 
boat,  and  transfer  the  second 
officer,  fifth  engineer,  and  seven 
natives,  with  their  food  and  water, 
to  Hawley's  boat.  This  was  a 
perilous  task  in  a  wind  and  sea  so 
boisterous;  and  during  the  process 
the  rudder  of  Hawley's  boat  was 
broken  and  unshipped.  He  then 
used  an  oar,  with  a  goosewinged 
jib  as  a  jigger,  to  keep  head  to  sea. 

During  the  forenoon  the  wind 
rose  to  a  gale,  with  a  high  in- 
creasing sea.  The  boat  labored 
heavily  and  shipped  water,  and 
heavy  sprays  burst  continually 


34  OPEN  BOATS 

over  the  men  as  they  baled.  Oil 
was  used,  and  the  baling  went  on 
without  a  break. 

At  noon  on  the  5th  they  sighted 
the  smoke  of  a  steamer  on  the 
south-east,  but  she  drew  no  nearer, 
and  the  smoke  died  away.  All 
this  time,  it  must  be  remembered, 
the  men  were  soaked  from  head  to 
foot  by  the  wintry  seas.  On  Jan. 
6  at  six  o'clock  the  second  cook 
died  from  exposure,  and  the  blue 
frozen  body  was  dropped  over- 
board. Half  an  hour  later  the 
officers'  boy  died,  and  at  nine 
o'clock  on  the  same  bleak  morning 
a  fireman  died.  The  burial  of 
these  dead,  the  heave  and  brief 
plunge  of  the  bodies  as  they 
lightened  the  boat,  were  the  only 
interruptions  to  the  long  monotony 
of  the  baling. 


SEA  SAVAGERY  35 

At  ten  o'clock  the  wind  and  sea 
moderated  a  little.  Hawley  set  a 
reefed  lug-sail;  and,  having  de- 
cided to  make  for  Alexandria, 
though  it  was  about  250  miles 
distant,  he  steered  E.S.E.  At  4.15 
that  afternoon  another  native  died, 
and  was  "buried." 

They  sailed  all  night.  At  5 
a.m.  on  Jan.  7  the  wind  shifted  to 
N.W.,  and  freshened,  and  the  sea 
increased  again.  At  six  o'clock 
the  captain's  boy  died  (having 
fought  hard  for  life  all  through  the 
night),  and  his  burial  left  the  boat 
still  lighter. 

At  7.30  a.m.  they  put  a  second 
reef  in  the  lug-sail,  and  steered  S.  E. 
At  8  a.m.  they  sighted  a  steamer 
on  the  port-bow,  only  about  three 
miles  distant.  Cries  broke  from 
their  blackened  lips,  and  they 


36  OPEN  BOATS 

made  signals  of  distress  by  waving 
some  of  the  dead  men's  clothing, 
a  coat  and  a  shirt,  on  a  stick. 

When  the  steamer  sighted  the 
boats  she  headed  for  them  at  once, 
and  signaled  by  blowing  her 
whistle.  At  8.30  they  were  along- 
side the  steamer  (the  Crown  of 
Arragon),  and  by  nine  o'clock  the 
diminished  crews  were  taken 
aboard.  They  were  all  at  the 
point  of  exhaustion. 

On  the  Crown  of  Arragon  brandy 
and  hot  coffee  and  dry  clothes  were 
given  to  them.  But  on  the  way  to 
Malta  two  more  men  died  from 
the  effects  of  their  long  exposure. 

The  rest  was  told  in  a  few 
telegrams  reporting  the  case  and 
asking  that  search  should  be  made 
for  the  missing  boats.  They  were 
never  found.  "Civilization"  is 


SEA  SAVAGERY  37 

very  big  and  busy;  and  one  tele- 
gram in  reply  stated:  "No  ships 
available." 

But,  grimly  as  this  crew  was 
thinned  out,  that  of  the  Whitgift 
fared  even  worse.  The  only  evi- 
dence of  the  attack  on  this  ship  is 
that  of  a  Japanese,  one  of  the 
crew,  who  sent  a  postcard  to  the 
owners  (Messrs.  Parker,  Hamilton, 
and  Company)  from  a  prison  camp 
in  Germany.  All  the  rest  of  the 
crew  were  lost.  The  postcard  ran 
as  follows: 

To  Miggis,  Palkel,  Hamilton,  and  Co. 
June  17,  1916. 

Dear  Sirs — I  have  written  you  once 
from  Hemeln,  but  did  not  receive  any 
answer.  I  am  now  in  Lager  Holzminden, 
Barrack  4.  On  April  20,  1916,  our  ship 
has  been  torpedoed  by  a  German  U  boat, 
and  now  I  am  prisoner.  If  it  is  possible, 
I  would  be  very  grateful  to  you  if  you 


38  OPEN  BOATS 

would  send  me  from  time  to  time  a  parcel 
and  money,  because  all  my  things  are  lost, 
and  I  cannot  write  to  Japan. — Yours, 
IKEHATO  SABURO. 

The  waves  of  this  war  break  on 
every  coast  in  the  world,  and  the 
sound  of  them  washes  over  every 
Continent,  bringing  sorrow  to  the 
remotest  ends  of  the  earth.  In 
the  early  days  of  the  war  I  met  an 
old  gardener  on  the  coast  of  Maine. 
He  was  a  Scot  by  birth,  but  had 
been  an  American  citizen  for  over 
half  a  century.  "My  son  went 
back  to  Scotland/'  he  told  me,  "to 
see  some  of  my  folks  at  home,  and 
he  took  up  mine-sweeping.  He 
was  drowned  just  off  Aberdeen, 
where  I  was  born." 

But  it  is  almost  equally  danger- 
ous for  neutral  seamen  to  engage 
in  the  humane  work  of  bringing 


SEA  SAVAGERY  39 

food  to  Belgium.  The  Greek 
steamer  Embiricos  was  taking  a 
cargo  of  maize  for  the  Belgian 
Relief  Committee  when  she  was 
sunk  by  a  submarine  in  the  Chan- 
nel. The  crew  were  put  into  open 
boats  at  nightfall,  though  the 
weather  was  very  stormy,  with  a 
wild  rain,  and  the  sea  ran  moun- 
tains high. 

The  Greek  captain,  John  Pala- 
ocrassas,  lost  sight  of  the  second 
boat  (there  were  only  two)  as 
they  were  going  before  the  wind 
and  sea.  He  tried  to  go  back  and 
find  them,  but  found  it  impossible, 
and  went  on  his  way  burning 
paraffin  flares. 

They  saw  the  flash  of  the  Lizard 
Light  across  the  tumult  of  the 
storm,  and  a  steamer  passed  them, 
"like  a  great  hotel,"  with  lights 


40  OPEN   BOATS 

out.  The  men  shouted,  the  cap- 
tain blew  his  whistle,  and  the  flare 
—  which  was  about  50-candle- 
power — must  have  been  seen.  In 
these  waters,  however,  at  night,  a 
large  steamer  is  apt  to  suspect  the 
tricks  of  the  U  boat  in  any  un- 
usual signals,  and  cannot  take  too 
many  risks. 

At  last  they  encountered  the 
green  light  of  one  of  our  heroic 
little  Brixham  trawlers,  and  heard 
the  reassuring  shout,  "All  right!" 
The  sea  was  so  rough  that  it  was 
after  midnight  when  they  were 
hauled  aboard.  They  searched  the 
sea,  as  thoroughly  as  possible  in 
that  wild  weather,  but  the  other 
boat  with  her  crew  of  twelve  Greek 
seamen  was  never  seen  again.  So 
much  for  the  German  tenderness 
towards  the  Kingdom  of  Greece. 


CHAPTER  III 
THE   UNFORESEEN 

The  victims  of  the  "open  boat" 
system  do  not  all  die  as  quickly  as 
the  women  and  children  of  the 
Lusitania,  but  "civilization"  is 
much  too  big  and  busy  to  keep 
count  of  the  numerous  obscure 
murders  of  the  innocent  and  help- 
less at  sea.  We  are  told  that  their 
deaths  are  "unforeseeable."  We 
are  not  told  whether  any  "place 
of  safety"  had  been  arranged  for 
the  crew  of-  the  Margam  Abbey, 
but  her  master  was  approached  at 
Seattle,  Tacoma,  Panama  and  Rio 
Janeiro  by  certain  mysterious 
41 


42  OPEN   BOATS 

agents  and  offered  large  sums  of 
money  if  his  steamer  never  arrived 
in  France.  This  is  the  new  war- 
fare. When  he  refused,  he  was 
threatened  with  a  place  of  eternal 
safety  for  his  own  personal  benefit. 
And  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  used 
to  be  reproached  by  the  "crickets" 
for  his  " romantic"  aloofness  from 
the  realities  of  our  ordered  life! 
My  only  criticism  to-day  is  that 
this  too  real  romance,  confronted 
quite  squarely  by  a  contemporary, 
in  an  inn  at  Rio  Janeiro,  looks  un- 
commonly like  the  bloodiest  kind 
of  murder. 

One  of  the  most  curious  methods 
of  treating  the  crew  of  an  attacked 
merchant  ship  is  revealed  in  the 
case  of  the  S.S.  La  Belle  France. 
On  Jan.  31,  1916,  she  left  Port 
Said  for  Dieppe,  via  Algiers,  with 


THE  UNFORESEEN          43 

a  cargo  of  rapeseed,  linseed,  and 
barley  from  Karachi.  She  was 
unarmed  for  offense  or  defense. 
All  went  well  till  2  p.m.  on  Feb. 
i,  when,  without  any  warning,  the 
ship  was  struck  by  a  torpedo  on 
the  starboard  side  in  the  way  of 
the  cross-bunker  holds.  She  listed 
heavily  to  starboard  at  once,  and 
made  much  water,  the  hatches 
from  No.  2  and  the  cross-bunker 
holds  being  burst  open. 

All  hands  were  promptly  called 
to  the  boat-stations,  where  the 
boats  had  already  been  swung  out 
in  case  of  attack.  No.  i  lifeboat 
on  the  starboard  side  was  then 
found  to  be  broken  by  the  con- 
cussion, and  useless.  International 
lawyers  may  well  take  note  of  this 
very  common  aspect  of  these  at- 
tacks on  merchant  shipping. 


44  OPEN  BOATS 

The  ship  was  listing  more  and 
more  heavily,  and  all  hands  were 
ordered  to  the  port-side  boats,  two 
of  which  were  lowered  by  the 
master  and  officers.  The  lascar 
crews  were  ordered  to  keep  close 
alongside  the  ship,  but  they  became 
panic-stricken  in  the  face  of  the 
new  "frightfulness,"  and  cast  off 
from  the  ship  without  orders.  The 
master  and  three  other  officers 
jumped  into  the  boats  from  the 
deck.  The  chief  officer,  who  was 
standing  by  the  falls,  and  the  chief 
engineer,  who  was  stopping  the 
engines,  were  left  on  board  as  the 
boats  drifted  away. 

The  chief  officer  dived  over- 
board, and  was  picked  up  by  No. 
3  boat.  The  chief  engineer,  being 
unable  to  swim,  remained  on  board 
till,  as  the  vessel  righted  herself, 


THE  UNFORESEEN  45 

he  succeeded  in  getting  into  No.  2 
starboard  boat,  which  was  partly 
lowered.  After  about  half  an  hour 
he  was  picked  up  by  No.  3  boat. 

No.  4  boat,  in  the  meantime, 
had  capsized.  Some  of  the  crew 
were  swimming,  and  others  were 
clinging  to  her  bottom.  The  sub- 
marine rose  to  the  surface,  came 
alongside,  and  picked  up  these 
men.  No.  3  boat  was  then  called 
alongside  the  submarine  by  the 
officer  in  command,  and  was 
ordered  to  stand  by.  The  officer 
of  the  submarine  took  his  revolver 
and  threatened  to  shoot  both  crews 
if  they  came  nearer. 

At  this  moment,  four  trawlers 
were  seen  on  the  horizon,  and  the 
submarine,  sublimely  oblivious  of 
the  shivering  men  it  had  just 
hauled  on  to  its  deck,  dived  with 


46  OPEN  BOATS 

the  whole  bunch  of  them  still 
standing  there,  and  left  them  to 
flounder  to  the  surface  as  best  they 
could.  Some  of  them  were  saved 
by  No.  2  boat,  but  nineteen  were 
drowned,  a  good  many  being 
sucked  down  by  the  diving  sub- 
marine. A  delay  of  a  very  few 
seconds,  of  course,  would  have 
made  it  possible  to  save  them  all. 
But  the  whole  affair  throws  a 
curious  light  on  the  German 
method.  It  might  be  described  as 
the  tempering  of,  mercy  with  cal- 
lousness, and  reminds  one  of  the 
nonsense-world  of  Edward  Lear, 
whose  creatures  regarded  one 
another  with  affectionate  disgust. 

The  most  excessive  caution 
could  hardly  have  regarded  this 
action  as  necessary  to  the  safety 
of  the  U  boat,  for  the  trawlers  at 


THE  UNFORESEEN          47 

this  time  were  many  miles  away, 
black  dots  on  the  horizon.  It 
seems  to  be  one  of  many  examples 
of  a  curious  whimsicality  that 
breaks  (by  way  of  reaction  per- 
haps) through  the  systematic  soul 
of  the  German.  He  has  carried 
his  logic  to  the  point  of  madness, 
and  perhaps  some  law  of  com- 
pensation demands  that  it  should 
be  offset  by  an  equally  insane 
capriciousness.  There  seems  to  be 
no  other  explanation  of  the  gnome- 
like  cruelties  that  have  crept  out 
of  his  once  music-haunted  moun- 
tains. On  one  occasion,  a  tem- 
porarily merciful  German  com- 
mander kindly  offered  to  tow  some 
open  boats,  which  had  been 
damaged  and  were  leaking  badly, 
into  a  place  of  safety.  He  saw 
some  aircraft  in  the  distance,  after 


48  OPEN  BOATS 

the  boats  had  been  made  fast,  and 
he  promptly  dived  with  the  boats 
behind  him,  not  even  waiting  to 
cast  loose.  It  was  only  after  a 
frantic  struggle  and  wild  hacking 
with  knives  at  tangled  ropes  in 
blind  whirlpools,  that  these  men 
escaped  with  their  lives.  There 
is,  no  doubt,  a  certain  grotesque 
humor  about  this,  from  the  Ger- 
man point  of  view,  but  when  nine- 
teen lives  are  lost,  and  nineteen 
homes  desolated,  the  laugh  can 
hardly  be  a  very  hearty  one,  even 
in  the  cities  of  the  new  civilization. 
It  becomes  more  and  more 
difficult,  however,  in  a  world-war 
that  seems  to  have  grown  too  big 
for  the  human  intellect,  to  keep 
more  than  a  few  of  the  facts  before 
us  at  one  time.  One  finds,  over 
and  over  again,  well-meaning 


THE  UNFORESEEN          49 

people  who  shudder  at  these 
hideous  aspects  of  the  matter,  but 
are  content  to  regard  them  as  a 
part  of  the  new  "sea  warfare/' 
They  are  unable  to  retain,  ap- 
parently, more  than  half  a  dozen 
ideas  simultaneously,  unable  to 
realize  that  all  this  has  no  relation 
whatsoever  to  "warfare,"  that 
these  men  were  non-combatants  on 
merchant  ships,  and  that  in  a  great 
many  cases  they  were  the  citizens 
and  the  ships  of  neutral  countries. 
Nobody  who  can  retain  all  these 
facts  simultaneously  can  come  to 
any  other  conclusion  than  that  the 
charge  is  one  of  wilful  murder  on 
the  high  seas.  Undoubtedly  our 
world  has  grown  too  big  for  us. 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine  what 
must  be  the  sensations  of  some  of 
these  merchant  seamen,  men  who 


50  OPEN  BOATS 

have  been  occupying  their  business 
in  fishing  or  coasting  trade  and 
suddenly  find  themselves  menaced 
by  all  these  strange  new  devilries. 
Sometimes  the  menace  is  as  weird 
and  unexpected  as  a  descent  of 
squadrons  from  another  planet. 
The  Franz  Fischer,  more  or  less  on 
her  guard  against  attack  from  the 
sea,  was  surprised  by  an  attack 
from  the  skies  of  quite  a  new  kind. 
The  Franz  Fischer  was  a  coasting 
trader  of  about  970  gross  tons. 
She  left  Hartlepool  for  Cowes,  with 
a  cargo  of  coal,  on  Jan.  31,  1916. 
She  was  unarmed. 

About  9.30  p.m.  on  Feb.  i  the 
ship  was  informed  by  a  torpedo- 
boat  that  there  were  floating  mines 
ahead.  James  Henry  Birch,  the 
chief  engineer,  said  that  at  this 
time  the  weather  was  very  fine, 


THE  UNFORESEEN  51 

with  no  wind  or  sea,  but  it  was 
black  dark.  The  engines  were 
working  full  speed  ahead,  and  the 
ship  would  be  about  sixteen  miles 
N.N.E.  of  the  Kentish  Knock. 
The  master  hailed  him  through 
the  engine-room  skylight,  told  him 
of  the  warning,  and  said  he  had 
decided  to  anchor.  The  ship 
anchored  at  about  ten  o'clock, 
and  had  two  white  anchor  lights 
burning.  The  chief  engineer  went 
on  deck  to  the  cabin,  which  was 
amidships,  to  see  the  master. 

While  they  were  sitting  in  the 
cabin,  talking,  they  heard  a  faint 
noise  of  aircraft.  The  mate,  who 
had  just  come  off  the  bridge,  called 
to  them  through  the  partition 
from  his  own  cabin,  asking  them 
if  they  heard  it.  The  master 
replied,  "Yes,  what  is  it?5'  The 


52  OPEN  BOATS 

mate  said  he  did  not  know,  but, 
whatever  it  was,  it  was  coming 
from  the  south-east.  The  sound 
then  appeared  to  die  away,  but  in 
about  two  minutes  it  became  deaf- 
ening. They  got  up  to  see  what 
it  was,  and  went  through  the  short 
alley-way  towards  the  deck.  Just 
as  Birch  opened  the  door  leading 
on  to  the  deck  there  was  a  terrific 
explosion,  and  the  master  and  him- 
self were  knocked  down  back  into 
the  cabin,  partly  by  the  concussion 
and  partly  by  a  great  mass  of  sea- 
water  which  had  been  heaved  up 
by  the  explosion.  When  they  were 
on  their  feet  again  they  found  they 
were  soaking  wet. 

The  ship  steadied  after  the  con- 
cussion, and  everything  seemed  all 
right  for  a  few  moments.  Birch 
rushed  to  the  engine-room  to  call 


THE  UNFORESEEN          53 

"all  hands  on  deck";  but,  just  as 
he  got  there,  the  second-mate, 
second-engineer,  steward,  donkey- 
men,  and  mess-room  boy  came  on 
deck.  They  were  all  nearly  naked, 
as  they  had  been  roused  from  sleep. 

By  this  time  the  ship  was  taking 
a  heavy  list  to  port.  Birch  and 
some  of  the  crew  hurried  round  to 
the  starboard  life-boat,  where  some 
of  the  remainder  were  already 
assembled.  One  sailor  was  in  the 
life-boat,  which  was  swung  out 
ready  for  lowering.  The  ship  was 
rapidly  falling  over  to  port.  Her 
funnel  was  still  intact,  but  it  was 
too  dark  to  see  if  the  masts  were 
standing. 

In  a  few  more  seconds  all  the 
men  were  half-way  to  the  bottom 
of  the  sea,  fighting  for  life  in  a 
black  whirlpool.  The  ship  had 


54  OPEN  BOATS 

sunk  like  a  stone.  When  Birch 
came  gasping  to  the  surface  he 
looked  round  for  any  wreckage 
that  might  be  floating,  and  saw 
the  life-belt  box  which  had  stood 
on  the  bridge.  He  managed  to 
get  hold  of  this.  Others  of  the 
crew  swam  up,  until  about  eight 
naked  men  were  hanging  on  to  the 
"  reasonable  place  of  safety"  which 
had  been  so  thoughtfully  provided 
for  them. 

The  scene  that  followed  in  the 
pitch-black  sea  >vas  a  somewhat 
ghastly  one.  Some  of  the  men 
tried  to  climb  on  top  of  the  box, 
with  the  result  that  it  rolled  over, 
and,  when  it  righted,  several  of 
them  were  missing.  These  panic- 
stricken  efforts  to  climb  out  of  the 
water — a  common  occurrence  in 
such  cases  with  men  who  are  not 


THE  UNFORESEEN  55 

practised  swimmers,  and  many 
sailors  are  not — were  repeated  with 
horrible  insistence,  and,  each  time, 
the  box  rolled  over  and  rose  with 
fewer  men,  gulping  and  clutching 
and  cursing.  At  last  Birch  swam 
away  from  the  box  as  the  best  way 
of  saving  his  own  life.  He  found  a 
life-belt,  which  he  put  round  him 
as  best  he  could,  and  managed  to 
keep  afloat.  After  a  time  he  lost 
consciousness,  and  when  he  re- 
covered he  was  in  a  life-boat 
belonging  to  the  Belgian  steamer 
Paul.  The  steward  and  another 
sailor  were  also  in  the  boat.  They 
were  taken  aboard  the  Paul  and 
given  dry  clothes  and  hot  coffee, 
about  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing; but  in  their  one  night  of  horror 
they  must  have  lived  considerably 
more  than  the  allotted  span  of  life. 


56  OPEN  BOATS 

This  attack  on  an  unarmed  ship 
at  anchor  had  undoubtedly  been 
made  by  a  Zeppelin.  One  of  the 
men  on  the  bridge  said  afterwards 
that  the  aircraft  seemed  to  be 
circling  overhead  in  the  darkness, 
dropping  closer  and  closer  to  the 
vessel,  like  a  great  night-hawk 
attracted  by  the  white  anchor- 
lights.  It  grew  much  louder  than 
an  aeroplane — more  like  "several 
express  trains  all  crossing  a  bridge 
together ";  and  at  its  loudest  it 
was  impossible  to  hear  a  man 
shout.  Then  there  came  a  sudden 
silence,  followed  by  the  terrific 
explosion,  which  flung  the  men 
about  and  dazed  them. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know 
how  Germany  would  reconcile  this 
attack  with  her  well-known  regard 
for  international  law.  Possibly  it 


THE  UNFORESEEN  57 

was  a  "mistake/*  She  may  have 
mistaken  a  ship,  with  so  German 
a  name,  for  a  fortified  city  like 
Scarborough,  or  perhaps  for  a 
cathedral  in  disguise. 


CHAPTER  IV 
A  PRUSSIAN 

"The  last  we  saw  of  the  captain's  boat 
was  ....  They  drifted  away.  We 
never  saw  them  again."  .... 

This  is  the  burden  of  a  hundred 
tales,  true  tales,  that  are  so  plain 
and  simple  that  I  believe  very  few 
people  realize  their  meaning.  It 
seems  inconceivable  otherwise  that 
a  civilized  world  should  allow  the 
sickening  work  to  continue,  as  it 
does,  day  after  day  and  night  after 
night,  in  this  bleak  winter — a  work 
of  murder  against  unarmed  men 
on  the  high  seas.  "Open  boats!" 
What  a  mockery  is  that  safeguard 
58 


A  PRUSSIAN  59 

in  the  face  of  the  Lusitania  out- 
rage. But  the  mockery  does  not 
stir  the  world.  Our  civilization 
has  neither  eyes  to  see  nor  ears  to 
hear,  unless  the  case  be  a  very 
large  and  sensational  one.  How 
many  people  have  heard,  for  in- 
stance, of  the  Tringa?  She  was 
a  ship  of  over  2,000  tons,  and 
carried  a  crew  of  only  twenty-five 
men.  What  are  twenty-five  men 
to  civilization?  To  German  civil- 
ization they  are  less  important 
than  cats*  meat.  As  for  the  neutral 
world,  the  cries  of  drowning  men 
must  come  from  at  least  fifteen 
hundred  throats  in  order  to  be 
heard  at  all.  Undoubtedly  our 
civilization  has  grown  too  big  for 
us,  and  no  human  cry  will  halt  a 
wheel  of  it.  On  a  certain  cold 
November  day  the  crew  of  the 


60  OPEN  BOATS 

Tringa  saw  the  wake  of  a  torpedo 
pass  under  her  stern.  Immediately 
afterwards  a  subm'arine  appeared 
on  her  starboard  quarter  about 
four  hundred  yards  away.  She 
opened  fire  at  once  on  the  unarmed 
ship.  This  is  the  narrative  of  one 
of  the  crew: 

We  blew  three  blasts  on  the  whistle  to 
indicate  that  we  were  trying  to  stop  the 
ship;  but  she  still  continued  to  fire.  One 
shot  crashed  right  through  the  crew's 
quarters.  We  immediately  lowered  three 
boats,  and  got  all  the  crew  away  from 
the  ship.  The  U  boat  circled  round  to 
the  portside,  and  still  continued  to  fire 
at  the  ship.  She  passed  close  to  the  boats 
while  she  was  firing,  and  fragments  of  the 
ship  fell  among  them.  The  last  shot 
caused  a  heavy  explosion.  The  ship  went 
down  shortly  afterwards,  stern  first. 

The  submarine  was  painted  a 
dirty  white  and  was  flying  the 


A  PRUSSIAN  6 1 

Austrian  flag.  Three  men  were  on 
the  platform,  and  one  in  the  conning 
tower.  Having  done  her  worst, 
she  disappeared,  without  troubling 
about  the  human  derelicts. 

"The  weather  was  very  bad,"  continues 
one  of  the  survivors,  "and  a  high  sea  was 
running.  We  drifted  for  forty-two  hours 
in  the  open  boat,  baling  continually,  for 
we  were  shipping  heavy  seas.  The  last 
we  saw  of  the  captain,  in  the  life-boat, 
with  thirteen  men,  was  on  Friday  even- 
ing at  5.30.  He  was  drifting  to  eastward. 
We  were  picked  up  by  a  steamer  at  eight 
o'clock  on  Sunday  morning." 

"The  last  we  saw  .  .  ."is  not 
the  last  glimpse  of  the  mind's  eye, 
however,  for  those  who  have  the 
heart  to  picture  the  last  agonies  of 
the  missing  men.  A  Roman  poet 
once  declared  that  it  was  pleasant 
to  stand  in  safety  upon  the  shore 
and  watch  others  battling  for  life 


62  OPEN  BOATS 

with  the  waves.  One  fears  that 
there  must  have  been  a  Prussian 
streak  in  Lucretius;  but  the  senti- 
ment, in  a  less  extreme  form,  is 
a  common  one.  Certainly  it  is 
pleasant  to  most  men  to  see  an 
enemy  battling  with  the  waves  of 
his  own  anger,  especially  when  he 
is  the  commander  of  a  U  boat. 

The  Chantala  was  an  unarmed 
British  ship,  and  she  was  torpedoed 
without  warning.  The  crew  had 
all  taken  to  the  boats.  It  was 
hazy  weather,  with  a  long  swell,  a 
light  breeze,  and  what  sailors  call 
"low  visibility."  The  boats  lay  to 
for  nearly  an  hour,  without  sight- 
ing the  submarine,  and,  as  the  ship 
had  not  yet  shown  signs  of  sinking, 
the  master  decided  to  return  to  her. 
The  U  boat,  however,  was  evi- 
dently watching  them  like  a  lynx 


A  PRUSSIAN  63 

— an  easy  matter  with  a  periscope 
that  is  almost  invisible  at  a  few 
hundred  yards  distance.  As  soon 
as  the  master's  boat  began  to  pull 
towards  the  ship  there  was  a 
"  whizzing  noise,"  and  a  shell 
passed  overhead,  striking  the  water 
very  near  them.  Then  the  sub- 
marine appeared,  about  a  mile 
away,  rushing  up  at  full  speed. 
The  boat  was  stopped  at  once,  but 
four  more  rounds  were  fired  direct- 
ly at  her,  and  narrowly  missed 
her.  The  submarine  then  fired 
ten  rounds  at  the  ship,  seven  of 
which  crashed  into  the  stern.  It 
was  evidently  a  highly  excitable 
submarine,  for  she  broke  off  this 
amusement  abruptly  and  came 
tearing  for  the  boats,  with  her 
commander  bellowing :  ' '  Where's 
your  captain?  Come  on  board 


64  OPEN  BOATS 

you  English  dog!    You  murderer! 
You  bastard!" 

The  master  got  his  boat  along- 
side, and  the  German  commander 
swore  at  his  own  men,  struck 
them  and  kicked  them,  for  not 
fending  her  off  properly.  The 
master  was  then  told  to  come  to 
the  conning  tower,  which  he  did. 
There  the  submarine  captain 
caught  him  by  the  throat,  threat- 
ening to  hang  him  and  using  very 
foul  language.  One  of  the  sailors 
described  him  as  "a  short  man, 
with  fair  hair,  a  glassy  eye,  clean 
shaven,  and  about  as  foul-mouthed 
as  a  pigstye."  The  submarine 
captain  said  that  his  brother  had 
been  murdered  by  the  Baralong, 
but  it  was  more  than  likely  that 
he  never  had  a  brother,  for  he  was 
apparently  ready  to  say  anything 


A  PRUSSIAN  65 

that  came  into  his  head,  with  a 
decided  preference  for  what  was 
violently  untrue.  It  is  a  mood 
well  known  to  psychologists  and 
to  every  judge  in  the  criminal 
courts.  It  is  the  way  of  the  weak 
man,  seeking  to  impress  or  terrorize 
those  who  are  temporarily  in  his 
power.  He  asked  the  master  the 
name  of  his  ship  and  her  port  of 
departure.  The  German  did  not 
deny  the  name  of  the  ship,  but 
when  the  master  named  the  port 
of  "London"  he  replied,  "You 
dirty  dog,  I  know  you  called  at 
Plymouth."  Probably  he  had 
been  reading  of  the  exploits  of 
Devonshire  seamen.  He  then 
abused  the  master  at  more  length, 
took  three  snapshots  of  him,  and 
ordered  him  back  to  his  boat.  The 
natives  in  the  boat's  crew  began 


66  OPEN  BOATS 

salaaming  to  the  submarine  com- 
mander, who  returned  the  compli- 
ment by  spitting  at  them  and 
calling  them  "dirty  black  dogs/* 

The  submarine  then  sent  a  boat 
to  the  ship,  and  after  looting  her 
of  a  considerable  amount  of  port- 
able property,  including  a  crate  of 
prize  fowls,  they  sank  her  with 
time-fuse  bombs.  The  crew  of  the 
Chantala  were  left  in  their  open 
boats,  eighteen  miles  from  land. 
But  in  this  case  only  the  eight 
seamen  who  were  killed  by  the 
first  unexpected  explosion  lost  their 
lives.  The  "only  eight,"  however, 
is  commentary  enough  on  the 
present  state  of  civilization  and 
the  impotence  of  international  law. 

The  brutality  of  the  open-boat 
system  of  dealing  with  passengers 
and  crews  of  merchant  ships  is  well 


A  PRUSSIAN  67 

illustrated  by  the  case  of  the  Chic. 
On  April  13  the  Chic  was  about 
forty-five  miles  south-west  of  the 
Fastnet  Lighthouse,  in  the  Atlantic 
Ocean.  There  was  a  strong  west- 
erly breeze  and  a  confused  sea,  in 
which  small  open  boats  could  not 
be  launched  without  great  risk  to 
life.  A  submarine  suddenly  ap- 
peared on  the  starboard  side  and 
began  shelling  the  ship,  which  was 
unarmed.  She  stopped  at  once, 
and  the  crew  were  ordered  to 
abandon  her.  An  effort  was  made 
to  lower  the  port  life-boat,  but  it 
was  caught  by  a  sea  and  lifted 
quite  slack  in  the  blocks.  On 
release,  when  the  sea  subsided,  it 
dropped  heavily.  The  after-gear 
was  carried  away.  The  carpenter, 
who  was  entangled  in  the  rope,  was 
nearly  strangled.  A  seaman 


68  OPEN  BOATS 

named  Creighton,  who  was  in  the 
boat,  was  flung  into  the  water, 
well  clear  of  the  ship.  A  life- 
buoy was  thrown  to  him,  but  he 
was  heavily  clothed,  probably 
wearing  sea-boots,  and  he  was 
drowned.  The  boat  rapidly  filled. 
Efforts  were  made  to  bale  her,  but 
she  was  found  to  be  too  badly 
damaged  to  be  seaworthy.  The 
submarine,  however,  was  not  con- 
cerned with  these  trivial  matters 
of  common  humanity.  She  was 
concerned  with  great  things  like 
the  impersonal  movement  of  the 
stars,  the  destiny  of  Germany,  and 
the  God  who  is  undoubtedly  "mit 
uns."  She  was  now  on  the  port 
side  of  the  ship,  with  her  conning- 
tower  and  part  of  her  body  show- 
ing. They  were  painted  an  "in- 
visible green."  The  conning- 


A  PRUSSIAN  69 

tower,   the  engineer  of  the  Chic 
noted,  had  four  brass  cylinders. 

She  dipped  and  appeared  again, 
several  times,  in  quick  succession; 
and  at  about  1 1 .30,  when  she  was 
submerged,  there  was  a  dull,  thud- 
ding explosion,  and  the  Chic  vi- 
brated, with  sounds  of  escaping 
steam.  Volumes  of  steam  and 
smoke  poured  from  the  engine- 
room,  stoke-hold,  ventilators,  and 
all  entrances.  The  ship  heeled  to 
starboard,  and  a  huge  mass  of 
green  water  washed  over  the  lower 
deck  from  port  to  starboard.  The 
ship  seemed  to  be  sinking.  The 
second  engineer  jumped  into  the 
water,  and  was  picked  up  by  the 
starboard  life-boat,  in  which  there 
were  sixteen  other  men.  She  pulled 
clear,  and  waited  for  the  jolly  boat, 
which  had  been  lowered,  with 


70  OPEN  BOATS 

about  eight  men  in  her.  The  sub- 
marine had  now  done  her  duty, 
apparently,  and  had  finally  dis- 
appeared. The  second  engineer 
described  the  result  of  this  abom- 
inable crime  as  follows,  and  I  give 
it  as  nearly  as  possible  in  his  own 
words: 

The  captain  in  the  jolly  boat  hailed 
us,  telling  us  to  get  out  our  sea  anchor 
and  come  closer,  so  that  he  could  put  a 
navigating  officer  aboard.  The  second 
officer,  who  had  the  necessary  instruments 
in  his  case,  prepared  to  come  aboard  the 
life-boat;  but,  owing  to  the  heavy  sea,  the 
first  attempt  very  nearly  led  to  a  bad 
collision,  and  the  jolly  boat  was  forced  to 
stand  off.  They  had  their  sea  anchor 
out,  and  we  were  told  to  drift  with  them. 
Verbal  communication  from  boat  to  boat 
was  impossible  owing  to  the  boisterous 
weather,  and,  as  it  was  impossible  to  pull 
against  the  sea,  we  drifted,  according  to 
the  captain's  last  orders,  taking  care  at 


A  PRUSSIAN  71 

every  opportunity  to  keep  them  in  sight, 
so  that  we  should  not  be  parted.  It  was 
clear  that  we  were  making  more  way  than 
the  captain's  boat,  but  knowing  that  they 
were  in  a  position  to  come  up  to  us  we 
took  it  for  granted  that  the  captain  had 
some  purpose  in  view.  The  distance  in- 
creased till  we  had  some  difficulty  in  seeing 
them,  but  whenever  they  rose  to  sight 
on  the  crests  they  seemed  to  be  riding 
the  sea  well.  They  showed  no  signals. 
The  last  we  saw  of  the  captain's  boat 
was  about  3  p.m.  She  was  then  about 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  away.  At  this 
time  the  weather  was  very  rough,  the  sea 
confused,  and  we  were  shipping  much 
water.  We  had  a  consultation,  and  de- 
cided not  to  alter  our  course  till  darkness 
set  in,  trusting  that  the  weather  would 
abate,  or  that  the  other  boat  would  come 
up  to  us,  and  that  we  should  be  able  to 
communicate.  Darkness  set  in  about 
7.30,  and  we  hove  to.  Nothing  further 
was  seen  of  the  captain's  boat.  Even- 
tually we  set  sail  and  struck  a  course  in 


72  OPEN  BOATS 

the  hope  of  making  the  south  of  Ireland. 
We  saw  one  ship's  light,  but  did  not  hail 
her.  The  next  morning,  about  8  a.m., 
we  were  taken  aboard  the  S.S.  Glengariff. 

Could  anything  illustrate  more 
completely  the  chaotic  brutality  of 
the  present  defiance  of  interna- 
tional law  at  sea.  It  is  simply  a 
tale  of  murder,  foul  and  unnatural 
— a  most  damning  indictment  of 
the  new  German  civilization.  The 
Allies  are  fighting  the  criminal.  I 
do  not  see  how  neutrals  can  fail,  at 
least,  to  pass  their  moral  judgment 
upon  him.  If  they  do  not  do  so 
openly,  there  are  only  two  ex- 
planations. The  first  is,  that  they 
do  so  secretly,  but  the  German 
"frightfulness"  has  muzzled  them; 
the  second  is,  that  a  great  part  of 
the  human  race  has  terribly  de- 
ceived itself  about  its  own  char- 


A  PRUSSIAN  73 

acter.  No  contempt  can  be  too 
complete  for  the  perpetrators  of 
this  outrage  against  every  chival- 
rous instinct  that  has  ever  found 
a  brief  lodging  in  the  unhappy 
heart  of  man. 


CHAPTER  V 

MAGNIFICOES  AND  THE 
DEAD 

The  attitude  of  the  Central 
Powers  towards  the  open  boat 
murders  is  an  entirely  cynical  one. 
Enough  has  already  been  said  to 
show  that,  in  the  very  nature  of 
things,  there  can  be  no  foreseen 
security  for  passengers  and  crews 
consigned  to  open  boats  many 
miles  out  of  sight  of  land.  And 
this  is  the  cynical  method  of  im- 
posing upon  credulous  landsmen 
adopted  by  the  Central  Powers: 
NOTE  VERBALE. 

VIENNA,  OCT.  25,  1916. 
The  Imperial  and  Royal  Ministry  of 
Foreign  Affairs  has  the  honour  to  bring 

74 


MAGNIFICOES  AND  THE  DEAD  75 

the  following  information,  received  from 
the  Imperial  and  Royal  Ministry  of  War, 
Naval  Division,  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
American  Embassy.  The  steamer  Win- 
dermere  was  sunk  by  mechanical  devices 
by  a  detached  crew  from  an  Austro- 
Hungarian  submarine,  after  the  steamer's 
crew  had  left  the  ship  in  well-equipped 
life-boats.  Nothing  further  is  known  to 
the  Imperial  and  Royal  authorities  about 
the  crew's  fate.  In  view  of  the  fact  that, 
at  the  critical  time,  there  was  fine  weather, 
only  a  slight  breeze  and  a  moderate  sea, 
any  accident  the  boat  might  have  met 
with  would,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Imperial 
and  Royal  Ministry  of  War,  Naval  Divi- 
sion, have  to  be  ascribed  to  an  event  not 
to  be  foreseen. 

In  other  words,  the  Central 
Powers  deliberately  reason  from 
incomplete  premises.  This,  in 
fact,  is  the  explanation  throughout 
of  the  amazing  German  logic.  You 
can  prove  anything  you  like  if 


76  OPEN   BOATS 

you  are  allowed  to  choose  your 
your  own  premises.  It  is  the 
main  danger  of  logic  in  the  com- 
plicated modern  world.  Hardly 
ever  can  you  get  a  complete  state- 
ment of  the  factors  in  any  political 
or  social  or  philosophic  problem. 
This  is  probably  the  reason  for  the 
success  of  the  illogical  British  at- 
titude towards  all  these  matters. 
We  can  never  accept  any  "-ism" 
as  the  whole  truth,  because  we 
know  instinctively  that  the  last 
word  can  never  be  said  by  mortal 
man  on  any  subject  of  this  kind. 
But  we  must  assume  that,  in  the 
last  result,  the  dice  are  loaded  on 
the  side  of  the  angels,  in  favor  of 
righteousness;  and  that  there  is  an 
eternal  basis  for  the  right.  There 
is  no  way  out  of  the  chaos  which 
"agnosticism"  has  been  preparing 


MAGNIFICOES  AND  THE  DEAD  77 

for  our  civilization  but  a  return  to 
at  least  this  irreducible  minimum 
of  a  creed.  Otherwise,  the  deluge 
will  indeed  follow.  Germany  has 
proved  that  customs  and  conven- 
tions are  valueless  without  some 
fundamental  sanction. 

The  "unforeseen  event"  in  the 
case  of  the  Windermere  came  about 
thus:  She  was  a  steamer  bound 
from  Tyne  Dock  to  Savona,  in 
Italy,  with  a  cargo  of  coal.  When 
she  left  Gibraltar  the  weather — as 
the  Imperial  and  Royal  Magnifi- 
coes  asserted — was  clear  and  fine. 
The  wind  was  in  the  east,  blowing 
lightly,  with  a  smooth  sea.  At 
4.30  in  the  afternoon  she  was  mak- 
ing about  eight  knots,  when  an 
unknown  steamer  was  sighted  on 
the  western  horizon,  about  six 
miles  away,  and  the  report  of  a 


78  OPEN   BOATS 

gun  was  heard.  The  chief  officer, 
John  Fergusson,  saw  through  his 
glasses  that  there  was  a  submarine, 
about  two  miles  distant,  between 
himself  and  the  steamer.  He  called 
the  master  from  the  chart-room, 
and  he  ordered  the  helm  to  be  put 
hard  aport.  The  U  boat  then 
fired  a  shell,  which  passed  about 
twenty  yards  a-starboard.  The 
ship  was  stopped,  and  all  hands 
were  ordered  to  the  boats:  but 
another  shell  was  fired  while  they 
were  actually  engaged  in  this. 
Fergusson  and  eleven  men  got  into 
No.  i  life-boat,  while  the  master 
and  eleven  men  got  into  the  other. 
By  this  time  the  submarine  was 
close  at  hand,  and  one  of  her 
officers  asked  for  the  master,  who 
stood  up  in  the  boat.  The  officer 
asked  various  questions  about  the 


MAGNIFICOES  AND  THE  DEAD  79 

ship,  and  eventually  gave  the 
master  the  course  to  Port  Mahon. 
The  master  asked  the  distance, 
and  was  told  that  it  was  about 
forty  miles.  Now,  every  sailor 
knows,  unless  he  be  an  Imperial 
and  Royal  Magnifico  of  the  Naval 
Division  of  the  Austrian  Ministry 
of  War,  that  nothing  can  be  "fore- 
seen" about  the  fate  of  open  boats 
forty  miles  from  land.  The  chief 
officer's  boat  made  more  headway 
than  the  master's,  as  her  sail  was 
larger;  and  three  times  she  turned 
in  order  to  keep  company  with 
him.  Arthur  Brace,  the  second 
engineer,  gave  the  following  ac- 
count of  the  unforeseeable: 

"The  third  time  we  stopped  the  master 
said  to  the  mate,  'Keep  more  to  the 
south/  After  that  we  did  not  get  into 
speaking  distance,  and  we  saw  her  light 


8o  OPEN  BOATS 

for  the  last  time  about  n  p.m.  She 
was  apparently  following  the  same  course 
as  ourselves.  We  held  on  our  course  till 
we  sighted  Majorca,  about  noon  on  the 
following  day,  and  ran  past  the  light- 
house point  into  a  small  bay  (Las 
Sabinas).  We  landed  on  the  beach,  and 
were  taken  to  an  inn,  where  we  had 
supper,  and  slept." 

The  rest  was  telegrams  from 
anxious  relatives  to  the  owners, 
and  from  the  owners  to  the  Admir- 
alty; those  curiously  pleading  tele- 
grams in  which  the  human  emotion 
is  expressed  unconsciously,  by  the 
pathetic  implication  that  those  in 
authority  may  somehow  change 
bad  news  into  good.  "We  do  hope 
that  you  will  soon  send  us  news  of 
missing  boat.  Relatives  anxious." 
"We  sincerely  trust  that  .  .  ." 
But  the  "unforeseeable"  had  hap- 
pened. The  missing  boat  was 


MAGNIFICOES  AND  THE  DEAD  81 

never  found,  though  six  feluccas 
were  despatched  to  search  for  her; 
and  there  was  nothing  left  to  tele- 
graph but  "our  deep  regret."  The 
sea  keeps  her  secrets  well. 

The  plea  of  "  unforeseeable "  is, 
of  course,  vitiated  by  the  plain  fact 
that  hundreds  of  men  have  been 
forced  to  fight  with  every  known 
danger  of  the  sea  in  their  "open 
boats."  The  crew  of  the  Scottish 
Monarch  (a  small  ship,  with  a 
cargo  of  sugar)  could  certainly 
foresee  something  of  the  fate  that 
was  in  store  for  them,  when  they 
were  attacked  by  a  U  boat  about 
forty  miles  south  from  the  Bally- 
cotton  Light.  After  four  rounds 
of  shell  from  the  pursuing  sub- 
marine, which  holed  the  ship  on 
the  port  side,  the  master  stopped 
the  engines  and  ordered  all  hands 


82  OPEN  BOATS 

to  the  boats,  which  were  success- 
fully launched.  The  master  at 
first  refused  to  leave  the  ship,  and 
remained  on  the  bridge,  while  the 
submarine  continued  firing  at  her, 
till  she  began  to  sink.  The  chief 
officer  then  asked  permission  by 
signs  to  take  off  the  master,  and 
the  enemy  ceased  firing  until  this 
was  done.  When  the  master  left 
her  the  decks  of  the  Scottish 
Monarch  were  awash.  The  master 
and  nineteen  of  the  crew  were  in 
one  boat,  and  fifteen  of  the  crew 
were  in  the  other.  The  two  boats 
kept  together  till  dark;  but  at  8.40 
the  chief  officer's  boat  capsized 
owing  to  the  choppy  sea,  and  sight 
of  the  other  boat  was  lost  in  the 
confusion.  All  hands,  after  a 
struggle,  managed  to  regain  the 
boat,  but  she  remained  full  of 


MAGNIFICOES  AND  THE  DEAD  83 

water,  with  her  tanks  adrift.  Be- 
fore midnight  she  had  again  cap- 
sized three  times,  and  the  reader 
may  imagine  for  himself  what 
scenes  were  enacted  in  that  lonely 
darkness  of  wind  and  sea.  Only 
four  hands  out  of  the  fifteen  were 
left  at  the  end  of  the  third  des- 
perate struggle.  They  were  the 
mate,  the  carpenter,  and  two  sea- 
men. They  saw  one  or  two  vessels 
in  the  early  morning,  but  their 
only  means  of  signaling  was  a 
handkerchief  on  a  stick,  and  they 
were  not  noticed. 

The  boat  was  battered  to  and 
fro  like  a  cockle-shell  in  the  smok- 
ing seas,  and  about  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning  the  two  seamen  be- 
came too  exhausted  to  cling  on. 
They  were  slowly  washed  over- 
board. Their  faces  and  hands 


84  OPEN   BOATS 

swirled  up  once  or  twice  in  the 
foam,  and  then  disappeared.  At 
five  o'clock  on  that  day,  after  long 
hours  of  struggle,  the  mate,  who 
was  sitting  aft,  gradually  dropped 
into  the  water  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat,  and  died  there.  The  car- 
penter was  now  the  only  survivor. 
All  that  he  endured  in  the  long 
following  night  and  day,  with  the 
dead  man  washing  to  and  fro  at 
his  feet,  and  the  dead  face  looking 
up  at  him  through  the  bubbling 
water,  can  only  be  imagined.  He 
says  that  " nothing  particular" 
happened.  At  night-fall  on  the 
next  day,  more  than  twenty-four 
hours  later,  twenty-four  hours  of 
lonely  battering  and  slow  starva- 
tion, he  and  the  dead  body  were 
picked  up  by  a  Grimsby  trawler 
and  landed  at  St.  Ives.  Nothing 


MAGNIFICOES  AND  THE  DEAD  85 

was  ever  heard  of  the  other  boat. 
But  from  what  we  know  we  can 
conjecture  what  happened  to  the 
unknown.  It  is  a  tale  to  rouse  the 
whole  civilized  world,  if  any  civil- 
ization be  left.  For  these  were 
non-combatants  on  a  small  ship, 
entirely  unarmed  for  offense  or 
defense,  and  carrying  only  a  cargo 
of  sugar! 

But  the  most  amazing  tale  of  all 
is  perhaps  that  of  the  Coquette. 
The  crew  were  forced  to  abandon 
her  in  two  open  boats,  by  a  sub- 
marine which  first  looted  the  ship 
and  then  sank  her.  (She  was  a 
steamer  of  4,000  tons,  carrying 
salt.)  The  master  protested 
against  being  set  adrift  in  boats 
which  had  been  damaged  and  were 
leaking  badly.  There  were  seven- 
teen men  in  the  master's  boat,  and 


86  OPEN  BOATS 

fourteen  in  that  of  the  chief  officer. 
They  lost  touch  with  one  another 
after  the  second  night,  and  the 
master's  boat  drifted  for  six  days 
and  nights.  Finally  it  made  land 
at  Res  Hamanas,  in  North  Africa. 
Two  stokers  were  despatched  along 
the  coast  to  look  for  help,  and,  soon 
after  they  had  gone,  the  other 
fifteen  ship-wrecked  men  were  at- 
tacked by  Bedouin  Arabs.  The 
master  said  that  the  Arabs  ap- 
peared to  have  a  queer  chivalry  of 
their  own.  They  shot  chiefly  at  the 
two  biggest  men,  severely  wound- 
ing himself  and  another.  Three  men, 
however,  were  killed,  and  ten  were 
taken  as  prisoners  into  the  interior 
and  held  to  ransom.  A  flying 
column  was  despatched  in  search 
of  them,  and  eventually  the  ten 
survivors  reached  England.  But 


MAGNIFICOES  AND  THE  DEAD  87 

the  chief  officer's  boat  was  never 
heard  of  again.  It  was  an  "open" 
boat,  and  its  loss  was  due  no  doubt 
to  events  that  could  not  be  fore- 
seen. 

These  atrocities,  committed  upon 
non-combatants,  neutrals  as  well 
as  those  belonging  to  belligerent 
nations,  in  un-barred  as  well  as  in 
barred  zones,  have  received  less 
attention  than  those  committed 
upon  land.  The  most  terrible  con- 
sequence of  the  general  murder 
— outside  the  belligerent  nations — 
to  the  new  "frightfulness"  (the 
principles  of  which  were  laid  down 
in  military  text-books  before  the 
war,  so  that  no  excuse  of  "des- 
peration" is  valid)  is  that  great 
numbers  of  civilized  people  have 
been  taught  to  ignore  all  distinc- 
tions between  right  and  wrong. 


88  OPEN   BOATS 

It  is  obvious  that  if  civilization 
is  not  to  sink  beneath  the  con- 
tempt of  the  ape,  some  foresight 
will  have  to  be  exercised  by  those 
who  are  responsible  for  the  main- 
tenance of  international  law,  and 
some  action  ought  to  be  taken  to 
bring  the  criminals  to  justice.  •  If 
the  strength  of  the  criminal  be 
the  only  thought,  then  civiliza- 
tion has  made  the  last  surrender. 
But  it  is  also  obvious  that  the 
success  of  the  U  boat  is  almost 
entirely  confined  to  its  attacks 
upon  unarmed  merchant  ships, 
and  very  frequently  neutral  ships. 
How  many  times  have  we  heard 
of  their  success  in  real  sea- warfare? 
This  is  the  heart  of  the  whole 
matter,  and  it  requires  the  most 
urgent  consideration. 


EPILOGUE 

KILMENY 

Dark,  dark  lay  the  drifters  against  the 

red  West, 
As  they  shot  their  long  meshes  of  steel 

overside, 
And  the  oily  green  waters  were  rocking 

to  rest, 
When  Kilmeny  went  out,  at  the  turn 

of  the  tide; 
And    nobody    knew    where    that    lassie 

would  roam, 
For   the   magic   that   called   her   was 

tapping  unseen, 
It  was  well  nigh  a  week  ere  Kilmeny 

came  home; 

And  nobody  knew  where  Kilmeny  had 
been. 

She'd  a  gun   at   her   bow  that   was 
Newcastle's  best, 


90  EPILOGUE 

And  a  gun  at  her  stern  that  was  fresh 

from  the  Clyde; 

And  a  secret  her  skipper  had  never  con- 
fessed, 
Not  even  at  dawn,  to  his  newly-wed 

bride; 
And  a  wireless  that  whispered  above,  like 

a  gnome, 
The  laughter  of  London,  the  boasts  of 

Berlin; 
O,  it  may  have  been  mermaids  that  lured 

her  from  home; 

But  nobody  knew  where  Kilmeny  had 
been. 

It  was  dark  when  Kilmeny  came  home 

from  her  quest, 
With  a  bridge  dabbled  red  where  her 

skipper  had  died, 
But  she  moved  like  a  bride  with  a  rose 

at  her  breast, 
And  "Well    done,   Kilmeny,"  the 

Admiral  cried. 
Now,  at  sixty-four  fathom,  a  conger  may 

come, 


EPILOGUE  91 

And  nose  at  the  bones  of  a  drowned 

submarine; 
But — late  in  the  evening  Kilmeny  came 

home; 
And  nobody  knew  where  KJImeny  had 

been. 

There's  a  wandering  shadow  that  stares 

at  the  foam — 
Though  they  sing  all  the  night  to  old 

England,  their  queen — 
Late,  late  in  the  evening,  Kilmeny  came 

home; 

And  nobody  knew  where  Kilmeny  had 
been. 


;',, 


VA0279. 


i 


